


Losing

by sharedwithyou



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angstangstangst, But Not Actually Unrequited Love, But still sorry, F/M, Heavy Angst, Jealousy, Past Relationship(s), Possibly Unrequited Love, Reader-Insert, Sorry Not Sorry, Thor Feels, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 12:39:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11623719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: “I think it’s my hair that’s slowing me down.”“It is almost to your feet. Maybe that’s what tripped you.”“Don’t start with me you little-““I kid, I kid.” He held up his hands, as calloused as yours from training with swords, to ward off any half-hearted blows you threw at him. You knew better to use all your force. You’d be banished to your room for at least a week again. And he’d still probably be the one rubbing your face in the dirt. You weren’t strong enough yet.“Besides, (y/n). Long hair suits you.”





	Losing

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovelies, it's been 3 weeks since I've gotten a new tougher job and started the stupid move=out process from the apartment i've lived in for five years, so i haven't gotten the chance to write until today. finally.
> 
> i wish i could just sit at home and listen to music and write and do nothing else, but at least we're making better money and paying less for rent.
> 
> anyway so this is typical bucky style, slightly dark, slightly funny, lots of angst.
> 
> i guess Possible warnings: very angsty, slight dark reader, nothing major
> 
> now it involves thor but for once it wasn't specifically for Pharm, I just felt like writing about Thor. which is good because that means i'm using him as a main character naturally, but it also explains why it's angsty and sad. sorry Stevie, you know i love you!
> 
> Possible Warnings: Very angsty, reader doesn't end up with anyone, slightly dark reader  
> basically just pretty angsty
> 
> slightly AU but not too much once you get over the fact that it's a reader-insert
> 
> hope you enjoy lovelies!!!
> 
> XOXO Bucky the Angstmaster

 

 

“Cut it off. All of it.”

“Are you sure, ma’am?”

You laughed. “Don’t you ever get tired of brushing it, tangled mess as it gets?”

“It’s my job, ma’am.”

“Nevermind, then. I’ll do it.”

 

And with a swing from your forearm, almost second nature, it all fell to the floor.

 

 

 

“Beat you again, (y/n)! Guess girls will always be slower than boys.”

“You tripped me right before the finish line, Thor!”

“I did not! Only Loki cheats.”

“Well, fine then. Don’t blame an entire gender for my loss.”

He shook his mane, little lion king that he was. “You’re only 9. Father says that’s too young to be thinking like that.”

“Oh really? King Odin wanting me to think less? Is he afraid I’ll succeed where my father failed?”

“I believe he’s afraid you’ll grow up to be a bitter loath like your father.”

He caught your wrist when you tried to slap him.

 

“Someday I’ll be faster and stronger than you Thor Odinson. And you’ll be sorry.”

 

“I think you’ll be happier if you think only of yourself. This whole kingdom and sisterhood business is too heavy to rest on your shoulders just yet.”

He was a brute since he was young; it was his wisdom that he grew out of.

But at that age, he was just the one who always won. And you were tired of being the loser.

 

“I think it’s my hair that’s slowing me down.”

“It is almost to your feet. Maybe that’s what tripped you.”

“Don’t start with me you little-“

“I kid, I kid.” He held up his hands, as calloused as yours from training with swords, to ward off any half-hearted blows you threw at him. You knew better to use all your force. You’d be banished to your room for at least a week again. And he’d still probably be the one rubbing your face in the dirt. You weren’t strong enough yet.

 

“Besides, (y/n). Long hair suits you.”

 

 

 

“Lady (y/n).”

You turned, startled by the voice. He’d been gone for so long. And he’d never called you by any title before.

“Thor…”

“Let me introduce you. This is Jane Foster. Jane, this is the (y/n) I spoke about.”

The strange woman stuck her hand out, before pulling it back quickly and doing a half-nod half-curtsy. This must be the Midgard tart there’d been whispers about.

“I’ve heard great things about you (y/n).”

No one called you by only your first name anymore, but she was obviously a fish out of water. Maybe she’d suffocate like one too.

“From Thor? That’s quite uncharacteristic of him.”

“What can I say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

His arm was around her, but the sparkle in his eyes you’d hoped would be only for you was still there. You didn’t blink, in case it decided to disappear right in front of you.

But it remained.

You turned your attention to the pretty young thing in front of him, and returned her half-nod. “Charmed, I’m sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Sif would love to hear about this.

 

As you walked away, you heard her weakly-attempted whisper. “She’s a bit intimidating, isn’t she?”

“This? This was a good day.”

“Why is her hair so long? Do her powers grow in it like Samson or something?”

“More like her temper, maybe.” They shared a cute little chuckle.

 

“Still, it’s nice.”

 

 

 

“He brought his pet with him, did he?”

“Snakes have ears, do they?”

“Your pathetic little pout is more than enough of a clue, (y/n).”

“Haven’t you heard? It’s Lady (y/n) now.”

“What are they going to do if I misspeak, give me another life sentence?”

“Apparently it’s a Midgard custom.”

“Someone’s been studying up. Looking to use your knowledge to win the dolt back?”

“If I’m to be queen one day, it’s best to know about our surrounding…species.”

“I hate to break it to you, darling, but I don’t think my brother will be getting betrothed any time soon. Least of all to you.”

“Who says I need him?”

“Following in dear daddy’s footsteps, are we?”

But you were older now, and neither the words nor the sentiments bothered you anymore.

“I could say the same for you.”

You were rewarded with a glare, before the fallen prince returned to his book with a dismissive sniff.

 

“I suppose if your plan were to work, marrying you would grant me enough of what I want.”

 

He raised a brow, interested once more. Not that he had anything to do besides listen anyway.

“Taking me up on the offer, are you?”

“I admit, it’s tempting.”

“Mhm.”

“But that is the serpent’s way, is it not? To tempt?”

“Maybe so. But the choice will always be man’s. Or woman’s I suppose.”

 

It was mostly boredom that drew you to Loki’s cage. And to entertain your long-abandoned dreams of taking over Asgard.

The truth that no one needed to know, was that there was only one thing you wanted now.

 

And you’d long accepted that it was out of your hands, if you’d ever get it.

Or for that matter, if you’d be able to keep it.

 

 

 

“Fancy a spar?”

You looked up from the bow you were sanding and was again thrown by Thor’s presence. Even with that ridiculous haircut, he was unbelievably handsome.

“It’s late. Sneaking back from Jane’s bedroom are you?”

“Pretty sure I can come and go as I please now.”

“Shame. A midnight spar is always more thrilling when it’s past curfew.”

“Crossing swords certainly meant something different back then, didn’t it?”

You shared something similar to that cute giggle you’d heard earlier. But things had never been sweet with the two of you.

 

 

 

“Your footwork’s getting sloppy, Thor.”

“Oh really? That tear in your sleeve proves otherwise.”

You blocked his approach and managed to scrape the buckle of his boot off. “Case in point.”

“And you’ve left yourself open once more.” He jabbed you in the ribs with the hilt of his sword as you backpedaled quickly. “You always lose your focus when you speak during sparring.”

“But it’s so much more fun to battle with both words and swords.” You pressed your blade back against his until you felt your weight buckling, before rolling under his arm and letting inertia bring him crashing down.

“Nice move,” he wheezed, before clutching his arm with a curse. Apparently ‘fell on his sword’ was more than just an expression.

“Thor?!”

You’d been winning your fair share of spars with him lately, but had yet to draw blood.

“Don’t worry, I got a piece of you too.” He grimaced and pointed to the ground, where his sword had sliced off a chunk of your hair in its descent.

You squatted next to him slowly with a frown.

“Never found you to be a vain woman, (y/n).”

Better him think that than to know your heart felt heavy seeing him bandage his arm.

“Though I suppose it’s good to see the feminine side of you.”

“The weak side, you mean?”

He chuckled and sat up, patting the ground beside him. “I meant no such thing.”

“We can’t all be comely while covered with dirt and blood, now, can we?”

He looked away. Flirting shamelessly with chambermaids was one thing, but a hint from you always threw him.

“Don’t mind me. I’ve just never had my hair cut before.”

He acknowledged your joke, but refused to meet your gaze.

 

You cursed yourself for pushing it. You’d built strength from all your physical weakness, but this a whole other level of weakness.

Of losing.

 

Then he pulled you into his lap and devoured your lips with his.

You enjoyed the rush for the few seconds it lasted, before he pushed you away once more.

“(Y/n)…we can’t.”

“I know.”

 

The daughter of a disgraced nobleman, nearly marked a traitor, as a possible heiress to the throne?

Shagging servants was one thing, but consorting with (y/n)? They’d cast you out for that.

And if Thor ever fathered a child with you…Odin would be sure to get rid of it.

Just like you were sure he’d taken care of your mother, to keep your father in line.

 

But every spar, no matter who won, would end like this for the year to come.

 

And after every brief moment of ecstasy, you’d lose once more.

 

 

 

“You’re a little rusty.”

“No more so than you, I’d say.”

The two blades rang out again and again in the night as the two of you struggled to find the rhythm that had been easy as breathing not so long again.

“Why so quiet?”

“You always said I lost focus when I spoke during battle.”

You leapt forward foot first and kicked him in the shin, knocking him off balance.

“Guess I needed you off your game.” He chuckled as he rolled away before the hilt of your sword struck him in the chest.

You grinned, before waving him towards you to begin again.

“Remembering your old moves, are you? Not bad.”

“Not all of us have a magical hammer to protect us.”

“Since when did you ever need protecting?” He quipped as your blade shredded a corner of his cape.

“To save the world, then.”

He snickered, before driving you backwards into a tree trunk. “You’ve never wanted to be a heroine.

“I guess some things don’t change.”

 

Once more you used his weight to roll out from under him, but he was quick and stuck his blade in the ground right by your feet. Instead of dodging, you rolled right into it.

“Fuck!”

He dropped to his knees as you clutched your arm. “What the hell, (y/n)?!”

Both those phrases were foreign, but your name without any prefixes was familiar once more.

“A bit clumsy, I guess.”

He shook you by your shoulders, apparently forgetting the injury was on your arm.

“You saw me place my sword there!”

“Surely you are mistaken.”

“I know it!”

“Are you accusing me of purposely impaling myself on your blade?”

He recognized how preposterous the words were, even without the bewildered tone of your voice.

 

“I… I know how hard this is on you.”

“I’ve gotten into larger scrapes than this.”

“You know what I mean.”

 

And that phrase should have been absurd to him, because everything had been muddled and tenuous between the two of you for so long, long before he left for another world.

 

But you’d always known that you would lose.

 

So you leaned your head onto his shoulder as he stroked your hair sweetly like he’d never done before.

“It’s beautiful, you know.”

“Takes a while to comb, and you’re mussing it up.”

 

“I’m not just talking about your hair.”

 

But before he said something that the both of you would regret, you stood up quickly, grabbing your sword by the blade with the palm of your hand and squeezing it so he’d always know. It was no accident.

 

Then you ran, your hair flowing through the wind, the only time you knew for sure he’d never catch up to you, to your sick victory of a race.

 

 

 

 

“Cut it off. All of it.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ;ALDSFKJ;ALSKJDF;AKJSDF;  
> SORRY
> 
> please leave a comment!!
> 
> RANDOM RAMBLINGS:  
> POLL 1: SEQUEL? AND IF SO WHO?  
> thor's kind of taken, and you really have to squint to get any lokilove, so it's tough.  
> if it does turn into a loki/reader it's gonna be even darker. damn i already have a lot of 'lovely loves loki who's in prison because he deserves to be' so.... yeah
> 
> i'm torn. it's such a good one-shot but i feel so bad leaving thor love unrequited. especially because usually i write thor for my soul twin. UGH. 
> 
> Poll 2: HARDEST PART TO READ?  
> mine is “I’m not just talking about your hair.”  
> and afterwards lovely runs away  
> because she feels like their chance has passed, but also that thor still has feelings for her and things will just get more complicated
> 
> i actually could have had thor catch up and mindfuck you with a good ending. damn, sorry. but if you guys really want a happier ending i can write a sequel.
> 
> it's slightly ambiguous whether you cut off your hair or your head. I was thinking you would cut off your servant's head along with your hair because i enjoy dark things but i wanted this to be less dark, more angst. in the end i'm sure everyone will interpret it as cutting off the hair.
> 
> i know cutting hair because of letting go of a boy/accepting yourself is VERY OVERDONE AND CLICHE but i did it anyway because damnit it fits. also its ambiguous and you know how much i love ambiguity.
> 
> say it with me. am-bi-guity (reference from that 70s show)
> 
> in the end i do have you get hurt on purpose. poor lovely.
> 
> lovely is basically a noblewoman (that's usually how my reader-inserts-into-asgard go, it makes sense and its pretty much my headcanon)  
> her dad wanted more power and it's unclear if he was banished, executed, or is still alive. its a minor plot point that adds to the angstiness.
> 
> The two blades rang out again and again in the night as the two of you struggled to find the rhythm that had been easy as breathing not so long again.- MORE AMBIGUITY- it's not so much the rhythm of sparring, but the rhythm of the two of you being friends/almost lovers. i'm sorry!!!
> 
> thanks for reading lovelies! I wish I could write more often but I'm doing my best and I hope you are all doing well as well!
> 
> XOXO Bucky


End file.
